Interview with Author KC Sprayberry

My guest today is KC Sprayberry. Hello, KC! Welcome to Writing in the Modern Age! It’s such a pleasure to have you.

Can you tell us a little bit about your latest
book? When did it come out? Where can we get it?

Softly Say Goodbye
is a story about one teen’s determination to make a difference in her high
school, to stop underage drinking. She jumps into this with all her heart
because she feels it’s wrong for a small number of students to intimidate the
rest. Little does she realize her quest can cause heartbreak, but it does not
once but three times. Still, she persists. Softly Say Goodbye released in ebook
format in October 2012 and in paperback January 2013. It’s available at Amazon,
Solstice Publishing, Smashwords, and Barnes and Noble (ebook only).

Is there anything that prompted your latest book? Something that
inspired you?

Several things
prompted Softly Say Goodbye. The characters jumped into my head, their lives,
their dreams, what makes them happy or sad, but without a reason for a story.
Then I saw a Facebook status that kicked me in the backside, started the story.
Finally, I heard the song "Here We Are" by Breaking Benjamin, and the full story
unfolded. But it wasn’t as easy as writing it out. Softly Say Goodbye went
through six major rewrites before it became the tale it is today.

So, when did you know you wanted to write? Or has it
always been a pastime of yours?

Writing has always
excited me. I absolutely loved working over my essays for English class, spent
most of my homework time on them. Getting a diary at thirteen gave me another
opportunity to jot down my thoughts and ideas. This evolved to an interest in
creative writing, but I didn’t really get into this passion full time until I
moved to Georgia.

Do you have any favorite authors?

Several. I love
Penny Estelle’s fresh perspective on problems, especially in At What Price?
Robert Jordan hooked me on his Wheel of Time series back in 1991, and I just
finished the final book, co-written by Brandon Sanderson after Mr. Jordan’s
untimely death in 2007. Stephen King is another favorite. All of his work is
good, but 11/23/63 was especially good.

Do you write in a specific place? Time of day?

I have an office,
and I spend most mornings in there, and some afternoons – depending on where I
am in a project. I work best in the early hours of the morning, when it’s
peaceful and my teen isn’t blasting his music. However, when it comes to
editing, it’s the backside firmly planted on the sofa with a legal pad, pen,
highlighter, and my current work in a binder. I’ve found there are less
distractions there.

Are there any words you’d like to impart to fellow writers? Any
advice?

Read first, whatever
you can get your hands on. We have a large personal library, nearly 1400 books.
I’ve always been a reader and am more so now. Then never give up. Writing is
not only telling a story well, it’s also staying with the constant rejections,
the feeling you’ll never be published. Don’t stop because a publisher couldn’t
find a place for your work – keep on submitting. And while you are, work on the
next project, pen short stories and find homes for them, track down anthologies
that might fit your work. But never give up.

Here is the blurb for Softly Say Goodbye.

Erin Sellers, an eighteen-year-old high school
senior, hates teen drinking. She and her three friends – Bill, her guy, Shari
and Jake - decide to use Twitter to stop a group, the Kewl Krew, from using
their high school as the local bar. But the members of this group are just as
determined to stop anyone from messing up their fun. Despite veiled threats to
her safety, Erin continues her crusade.

To make matters worse for her, the stress of
school and extra curricular work mounts and suddenly, shockingly, booze-fuelled
tragedy strikes. Erin is now under greater pressure as she spends all hours to
produce a mural and other work to commemorate the death of a teen friend. Bill,
Jake and Shari support her in all this...

But more tragedy lurks nearby… until it’s time
to softly say goodbye.

And at last, we’re giving you a sneak peek of Softly Say Goodbye.Enjoy!

The sound of liquid gurgling
and a thunk distracts me as my art teacher, Mr. Janks, says he has a major
announcement. An overwhelming urge prods me to confront the offender, but
she'll deny my accusation, even though everyone in the vicinity knows she just
chugged some vodka.

Do it! My hands clench into fists. Tell Laura to quit!

High school drunks totally piss
me off. The urge to deal with the offender overcomes common sense. I start to
turn around to give her a piece of my mind but stare in shock at my teacher
instead.

A week before Valentine's Day,
the most romantic day of the year, I want to throw my books into the nearest
trashcan and run until my legs give out. Here I am, sitting in my art class,
and Mr. Janks announces we have to do a term project but not just any term
project. Oh no! We have to develop a major project like cleaning up the Rec
Center's playground and painting a mural on the huge cylinders kids climb all
over. Worse, I swear I heard something about a video. Who has time to do all
that and a video?

“Tell me Mr. J didn't say
that,” I cry.

The now protesting students
echo my feelings. The new issue drives all other thoughts out of my head. Oh
yeah, I heard right, and the timing is rotten.

Tuck Amstead rolls his eyes and
glances at me. “Total pits, Erin.”

“Maybe we heard wrong?” I
offer.

“Mr. Janks, we can't possibly
do this,” Tiana Bolton protests. “It'll…it'll… You're asking us to give up all
of our free time and ignore studying for our EOCs. And you want us to show you
what we did on the same day we take the EOCs!”

Boy, does she have that
right. EOCs, end of course exams,
make up a significant portion of our final grade. To top it off, we also have
to take the state's graduation test — a mind-numbing horror challenging us to
remember every single thing we have ever learned since our very first day at
Landry High School. The idea of planning and executing a major art project due
at the same as those dreaded tests gives me the worst scary feeling of my life.

“Why can't you do like everyone
else?” I ask. “This is worse than impossible.”

“This is my EOC, Erin.” Mr. Janks shakes his
head. “You saw the syllabus when you started the class last fall.” He stares at
each student, all twenty of us, for a heartbeat. “All of you
signed the syllabus, and so did your parents. No excuses. Now—”

“But we have to do all our other
studying,” Tiana cries, interrupting him. “When will we have time for your
project?”

Slender, sweet, and conflicted,
Tiana's cap of brandy brown hair frames her porcelain complexion. Oh, so
jealous here. She never has to worry about her hair bushing up on a humid
day or the sun giving her freckles like I do with my shoulder-length red hair
and uber-pale complexion. Even her eyes drive me nuts. Instead of green like
mine, which everyone says look like the local pond's algae, Tiana's are gray.
She has more than high school to worry about. Her mom won a court decision only
a week ago, forcing Tiana to visit her in prison. The timing can't be worse.
The first visit is the same day as the Valentine's Day Dance. Poor Tiana not
only has to miss the most romantic dance of the year, she has to listen to her
mom grouch about how a judge forced her into a plea deal that keeps her in
prison for ten years. The dummy never should have driven when she was drunk.
The family she hit is still recovering from their injuries.

“You also have a long term art
project,” Mr. Janks says with what sounds like very little patience for our
issues. “Now, I have a few things to say about the project since it sounds like
most of you can't remember what you signed last August. It will be a major part
of your final grade. Just like all your other EOCs.”

Shocked beyond belief, I
scribble what he says in a desperate effort to make sure I pass this very
important, blown off exam. Who ever thought I, Erin Sellers, would panic at the
thought of an art project? I churn out assignments in this class without a
second thought. Art is my passion, the one thing I live for, the way I relax.
With everything else going on in my life, and all the issues at school, I don't
need an announcement I never expected.

Usually, I love school. No
wasted moments pass before I dive into the planning sessions with my crew for
all major projects, the people I share each and every secret with. This time,
I'm alone except for Tiana, and she sounds like she wants nothing to do with
art.

“Why can't we just do what we
usually do?” she asks. “It's not like we'll ever use art again.”

Oops! Major faux pas. Boy, is she about to hear it. He
lives and breathes art in every form.

“All of you were included in
this class for your artistic abilities.” His voice sounds colder than a late
January snowstorm. “I expect you to do this assignment or join me for summer
school while the rest of your friends enjoy their vacation, Ms. Bolton. Now, if
you're through whining, I need to finish explaining this assignment before the
bell rings.”

Whoa! Mr. Janks never talks
like this. He is far cooler than any other teacher, and he dresses the starving
artist part. Shoulder-length blond hair with a few gray streaks highlights a
thin face. Cheekbones stick out under his super-pale blue eyes, and stubble on
his chin makes him look so laid back. Until this moment, I've never heard him
tell a student off like he just did.

“Yeah.” Tiana slumps down in
her seat. “Whatever. Like I'll have time.”

How I wish for the old days,
when nothing got her down. She went into a total slide after her mom went to
jail for the DUI. My crew and I want to help, but her home life is such a
bummer. Her dad smokes pot from the time he gets off work until he passes out around
ten or eleven every night. And she has to deal with her mom's stupid remarks
whenever the woman calls, and her dad's drug addiction, but she is so cool
about staying off the stuff herself.

“Does everyone understand I
won't tolerate any reason for avoiding this project?” he asks.

His voice warms up a little.
Almost like going from minus one to zero on the thermometer. Like me, the rest
of the class sits quietly with pencils or pens poised above notebooks. No one
wants to piss him off any more than he already is.

“Fine.” He searches the top of
his desk as a question occurs to me.

“Uh, Mr. Janks?"

“Yes, Erin.” No patience in his
voice, just a lot of suppressed anger, like he thinks I'm about to make
trouble.

No one, but no one, can accuse
me of causing problems on purpose. If anything, I go out of my way to avoid
notice and trouble, except telling off any teen drinking booze. The urge to say
“it doesn’t matter” almost makes me change my mind, but I really have to know
something.

“Will we have to get permission
from the city to do this project? I mean, you used the Rec Center as an
example. We can't just go in and do what we want unless someone approves it.
Right?”

“You're right.” His voice
softens. “Thank you for mentioning that.” He holds up a folder. “I have a list
of places the city wants cleaned up. Mayor Flaggins agreed to let you kids—”

The whole room erupts into
moans and groans. None of us like someone calling us kids, not with most of us
already eighteen.

He laughs instead of getting
upset. “Sorry. All right, class, here's the list. I'll call out a location, and
the first person with their hand up gets it. I have enough locations for
everyone to work alone, except one. Two of you will have to share.”

I
sit back and go over possible locations in my mind. One sticks out. The park
across from the police station on Main Street. There's a fantastic in-ground
fountain for kids to play in during the summer and a bunch of concrete benches
around it with walking paths and short walls. The fountain has a huge jet in
the center and shoots water in a long stream over the nearby area. It also has
smaller jets with bubbling water around the basin. But it's so plain, and the
perfect place for a fantastic mural about living in a rural area.

“The old Long John Silver's
near the Red Foods,” Mr. Janks says. “Mayor Flaggins thought something related
to farming there.”

“Me!” Tuck waves his arm back
and forth. “I have this fantastic idea. Maybe something including Jackson
Valley and all the farms down there.”

Wallis County has a lot of
small farms, nothing more than five to ten acres for people to put in enough
vegetables to feed their families and sell the rest at truck stands. Tuck's
suggestion brings up a visual of a long winding road beside a creek with houses
against small hills and open fields to either side. In the summer, during the
height of growing season, it looks fabulous.

“Okay, Tuck has the Long John
Silver's.” Mr. Janks makes a note. “Let’s get on with the rest.”

The list of places to decorate
sounds boring, and like Mayor Flaggins wants free labor to clean up some pretty
nasty parts of town. Yeah, the economy stinks, but why do we have to volunteer
to do something the mayor can put people sentenced to community service on?

“Okay, just two more,” Mr.
Janks says, jerking me back to reality. “Next, the fountain near—”

My hand shoots into the air,
and I wave my arm harder than Tuck did.

“Looks like Erin's hot for this
one,” he says. “Okay, Erin. Want to share your idea?”

“Not sure yet,” I say.
“Something including kids and the fountain. Definitely green.”

“Good.” He nods. “I like the
idea of using green products. Now, last but not least is the Rec Center
playground. Definitely a two-person job. Tiana?”

“I guess.” She sounds less than
enthusiastic. “But it's a huge job. I can't even think of a single thing kids
will like there that won't take me hours and hours I don't have.”

A loud crack of gum snapping
jerks everyone forward in their seats. My eyes roll, and I want to grab the
gum-cracker’s “water” bottle and throw it out, preferably in another state. A
drunk in class is bad enough, but a gum-chewing drunk makes me crazed.

“I guess I have to bail out
Tiana,” Laura Wiley says. “Whatever.” She buffs blood-red fingernails against
her sweater. “This better not mess up my manicure.”

The queen of
the Kewl Krew checks in. Oh great! So not.

Author Bio

What a wonderful world it is to
have books. Imagine one without imaginations devoted to giving children a place
to discover new worlds, make friends, and see a wider view. That was my life
until I learned to appreciate books as a child and now I work hard to share my
stories with them. So many things interested me, so many adventures beckoned
that I had no idea how to discover all of them at once. College brought dreams
of photo/journalism but a diversion to the military took me to Europe for five
years. Finally, after many years of putting it off, I took the plunge and
committed those stories to paper at almost 40! Now over 50, I live in
LaFayette, GA with my husband and youngest child, a teen. We also have a near
human cat, Fireball.

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